


The world has left you lying on the ground.

by maggspags



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-20
Updated: 2015-06-21
Packaged: 2018-04-05 06:24:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4169304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maggspags/pseuds/maggspags
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the death of her father Clarke just want to feel alive again, who knew that would mean going to art school across the country and chasing a dream she never knew she had and meeting a boy she never thought she'd like.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

            Ever since she was a little kid Clarke’s life had been planned for her. From who her friends were to what she ate for every meal, she wasn’t entirely sure her breathes weren’t being pre-planned as well. When she was younger she didn’t mind it so much, or maybe she just didn’t know any better. Being the daughter of a world renowned surgeon and one of the top chemical engineers in the country if not the world meant that Clarke was destined to not only be smart and accomplished like her parents but also desire the life they lead.

            She didn’t.

            If you asked her mother when the shift in Clarke started she would probably guess it began with the death of her father. Clarke would tell you that it began long before that but her mother hadn’t noticed until Jake had died. In all actuality she could pinpoint the exact moment in time when she realized she wanted nothing to do with the life her parents had planned for her.

            She was 18, two months away from high school graduation and actually excited at the prospect of freedom that college was going to offer to her. She not only wanted to be the valedictorian of her class, it was a necessity in the Griffin household. So instead of spending her senior year making memories with her classmates Clarke spent the majority of her last year just as she had the last three, studying. That was until one night near the end of March. She was driving back from her shift at the library when she realized that she didn’t actually want to go home. Instead she turned her car around and drove towards a small little lake that bordered her hometown. Parking her car she shrugged into her jacket and headed towards the water’s edge. It wasn’t too late out so there were still some people out and about. Most of them were kids her age, some people she recognized from class but they didn’t seem to recognize her. It wouldn’t be a stretch to say that Clarke spent the majority of her time in school watching the people around her, when she wasn’t studying for a test that is. Deciding to avoid the group of kids who instantly stopped their conversation when she walked by she headed deeper down the shoreline. Finally she found a sturdy little rock and sat down.

            She checked to phone to make sure that her parents weren’t missing her and then tossed it back in her bag. She pulled out her notepad and one of her pencils and just started out at the sunset. It was beautiful, the colors splashed across the horizon took her breath away and she cursed herself for not constantly carrying her pastels with her. Instead she started a sketch of the lake with the light of the dying sun bouncing off of it. By the time she had finished the sun had gone down completely and she had been drawing to the light from the lamppost behind her instead.

            “That’s pretty good.” A voice from behind her snapped her out of her phase and she dropped her notepad in shock. “Sorry I didn’t mean to startle you.” She turned her head to see a young man with a smirk on his face bending down to pick up her drawing. “You had been sitting out here by yourself for a while figured I’d come make sure you were okay.”

            Clarke had been taught to be wary of strangers but the boy’s gentle smile and easy eyes put her at ease immediately. “I’m fine, thank you.” She said with a small smile and a quick nod, grabbing her pad from his hands.

            “You’re Griffin right? From Mr. Myer’s art class?” Clarke started at the boy again, how could she not recognize him? Sure that was the one class she actually got lost in what she was doing but she took great pride in the fact that she knew almost everyone in her graduating class at least by face.

            “Yeah.” She said skeptically.

            “You don’t recognize me do you?” The boy asked flashing a cheesy smile and Clarke felt the embarrassment creep to her cheeks. “That’s okay, I mostly keep to myself. My name is Lincoln.” He held out a hand for her to shake and she slowly extended hers as well.

            “Its very nice to meet you Lincoln. –Wait are you the one who draws those futuristic landscapes?” Lincoln nodded and she beamed at him. “I’ve been wondering whose been drawing those. You are so talented, I wanted to steal the one you did of the old theme park, and it was simply stunning.”

            Lincoln clearly didn’t know how to handle praise and simply rubbed the back of his head with his hand, staring at the ground. Clarke was pretty sure she heard him mumble thanks. They had spent the rest of the evening talking about art and their plans for after they graduated. Lincoln was surprised to learn that Clarke wasn’t going to pursue art given her talent and Clarke was unsurprised that Lincoln was. She felt a pang of jealousy when he described the art program at the school he was going to be attending. For Clarke Griffin art school wasn’t even close to an option.

            They talked until most of the other loiters had filtered back to their cars and Clarke heard her phone buzzing in her bag. “Shit.” She said, flustered. She reached over and sure enough her mother had called her eight times. “It’s my mom, I really should be getting home.” Lincoln just nodded and started heading back to the cars. “It was really great talking to you though, maybe we could hang out again and you could show me where you get all your inspiration from.” Clarke smiled at him and Lincoln grinned back

            “Of course, but you’ve got inspiration enough Clarke. Your work speaks for itself most of the time; it’s just that you are holding back. Don’t be afraid to say things with your art. I’m sure some one like you has plenty to say.” With that he was in his car and already gone by the time Clarke moved again. She did have plenty to say, she just wasn’t sure how it would fit into her perfectly planned life.

 

-

 

            After graduation and the acceptance into every school she had applied to Clarke suddenly had a change of heart. She didn’t want to go to medical school, she didn’t want to be a doctor but most importantly she didn’t want to tell her parents that their little girl was rejecting their perfect life. After their meeting at the lake she and Lincoln had formed an easy friendship. They spent the majority of their summer hanging out and drawing together. She felt more creatively fulfilled in those few weeks than she had her entire life previous. She had quietly applied to the art program at a small liberal arts college on the east coast, the one that Lincoln had mentioned to her. It was a late application so if they accepted her it would be for the winter semester but Clarke didn’t mind.

            She had been so nervous mailing away her favorite sketches and paintings to be judged by some faceless committee who would decide whether or not she was talented enough to cut it. Lincoln had told her there was nothing to worry about she was a shoe it, but Clarke wasn’t so sure. She had asked that the school mail any rejection or acceptance letters to Lincoln’s house so her parents wouldn’t get suspicious. When Lincoln called her in late July she was a nervous wreck until she showed up.

            “Is it a big envelope? Does it feel like it contains a letter that starts off with ‘Dear Ms. Griffin we regret to inform you that you are absolutely lousy as an artist and would be better off just listening to your parents’? Or is more like ‘Dear Ms. Griffin you are the tits and we would totally love it if you came to school here’?” Lincoln stared at her as she burst into his house a fury of blonde hair and anxiety.

            “You know I don’t think schools send out acceptance letters that use the word tits. No matter how liberal they claim to be.” Clarke hadn’t stopped pacing since she had entered his living room. Ranting and asking how she was supposed to know the proper etiquette for school acceptance letters. “I mean don’t you have like seventeen on the fridge at home.” He joked but she either didn’t hear him or didn’t care.

            “Just let me see it. “ She said finally. She had stopped moving and was facing Lincoln with a stare. He had been tempted to make her suffer a little longer but her icy blue stare would melt anyone down and he retrieved it from the back of the couch. It was a large envelope; it felt as though there was a lot of information packed inside of it. Most likely a good sign but she wasn’t sure, maybe they were just sending her art back to her to help cushion the blow of rejection.

            “Pretty sure you aren’t going to develop x-ray vision in the next two minutes.” Lincoln said, prodding her to open it. She shot him a nervous glare and slowly ripped open the top and pulled out the packet of papers.

            It was silent as Clarke’s eyes scanned the top letter. Her face was unreadable for a moment until it screwed itself into a grin. “I got in.” She whispered, tears in her eyes. She felt Lincoln step closer to her and she looked up to meet his stare. “I got in!” She said louder and started to laugh. Lincoln wrapped her into a sturdy hug. She had gotten in, it seemed that her art was good enough. Her happiness lasted all of three minutes because her mother called, and reality was calling.

 

-

 

            Jake Griffin had died a week after Clarke had been accepted to her art school. There had been some sort of freak accident at the lab that had left nine injured and one dead. She still hadn’t told her parents about her decision to change up the life plans they had made for her. She knew her dad would be the one most on her side. Now he was gone. The next few weeks had passed in a fury of tears. She wasn’t sure what she was supposed to be doing so she did nothing. Her mother ran around the house making sure that everything was in order but Clarke just sat and stared. She stared at Lincoln when he had come over to make sure she was okay. She stared at a barrage of aunts and cousins and family friends, who attempted to talk to her, hug her, make her feel anything but misery. She stared at flower arrangements from people she didn’t know. She stared at the walls and ceilings and pictures of her family laughing together, happy. She stared at her mother who kept trying to get her to eat, or talk, or drink even though Clarke was sure that she hadn’t done any of those things herself. She stared into the sun because it was supposed to make you blind and she didn’t want to see a world without her father in it.

            At some point, she wasn’t really sure when a pencil found its way into her hand and her sketchbook was open on her lap. She had started sketching the things she was staring at. She would look back on it later and see that she had captured so many private moments. There was a quick sketch of her dads friends huddled around each other, talking quietly about her dad, sad smiled on all of their faces. There was a sketch of her mother standing in a solitary kitchen light, a lifetime of sorrow etched on her face and she contemplated a life without her husband. There were pictures of all the food that had been dropped off, all the bottles of wine that had been drank, all the kids too young to really understand what had happened huddled together playing hide and go seek in the flowers. At the back was a picture she didn’t remember drawing. It was her father, his quick smile and soft eyes staring up at her.

            She stopped staring after that.

 

-

 

            The announcement of art school had been put on the back burner after the death of her father. So had, however, medical school. Clarke didn’t want to go to any school anywhere. She wanted to waste all of her potential by just sitting in her room and pretending it was all a dream. Her mother had stopped trying to plan her life and just let her be for a while, which was a nice change. Of course Clarke knew that he mom was only doing that because she was having a hard time coping herself.

            Everything that had once interested her had suddenly become a reminder of her father. Watching football reminded her of how loudly he would yell at the television and how excited her got when they won the game. She didn’t make it through the first quarter. All the books in her house were tainted by the memory of her father reading to her when she was little. She didn’t want to go out because everyone in town knew that she was the girl who had lost her dad, their looks of pity made her sick. She barely looked in the mirror anymore but when she did she realized she wasn’t even looking at herself. She was a ghost. Her eyes were surrounded by dark circles and her skin looked pale. Her hair was a wavy mess piled on top of her head and she couldn’t bring herself to care. The only thing she could still do was draw, but even that was lacking in any color or life.

            Clarke got a job waitressing in town near the end of September because she needed to do something, and having money that she didn’t get because her father had died made things hurt a little less. She was at work when Lincoln had called. It was late October and he had been at school for two months. He would send her updates every once and a while, let her know what to expect if she ever decided to rejoin reality.

            “Hey Sarah, could you keep an eye on my table for me really quick.” She asked her fellow waitress who nodded before Clarke dipped into the back pulling her phone up to her ear. “Hello?”

            “Hello is this Clarke Griffin?” The voice on the other line was definitely not how she remembered Lincoln sounding. For starters it sounded very drunk, and it was very obviously female.

            “It is, who is this?” Clarke asked, starting to worry. “Where is Lincoln?”

            “Lincoln is standing right next to me and my name is Octavia Blake.” She swore she heard Lincoln apologizing in the background. “The reason I am calling is because Lincoln mentioned he had a friend back home that might be coming to join us this winter and I just had to meet you. Well at least talk to you. You must absolutely come out so that Lincoln will stop worrying.”

            There came a very strict warning that sounded like _Octavia_ _don’t_ in the background and Clarke stifled a giggle.

            “Also I wanted to make sure that you weren’t his like secret back home girlfriend because that would be just terrible. Also you must come out to school here its just the best.” She was rambling and Clarke tried to picture it. Lincoln surrounded by his new friends, drinking and laughing and she felt a pang of longing in her gut. Octavia was still talking when she heard a scuffle for the phone and then Lincoln’s voice on the other end.

            “You still there Griffin?” He asked, his voice quiet and careful, worried that she had hung up the phone.

            “I’m still here.” She said. He didn’t press her for any information or asked her if she was okay but then again he never had. He didn’t need to and Clarke was grateful for it. He had accepted that she wasn’t ready for life to start again after her dad had died.

            “I’m sorry about Octavia, I mentioned you once and now she wanted to know everything about you. Also we may have been drinking a little bit.” Clark smiled to herself; maybe the real world wouldn’t be so bad.

            “It’s fine, she sounds really nice. A little intense, but nice.”

            “Yeah, she’s… she is something else.” Clarke rolled her eyes, she could tell by his tone of voice that she definitely was something else. Lincoln cleared his throat. “Well you should at least come out for a visit. We have this little break coming up in a couple weeks and it would be really great to see you… if you want to that is. And if you came out you could see the campus and get familiar with the school and maybe it will help make a…” He had trailed off. Clarke knew that he didn’t want to push her too hard, and she was grateful for it. Maybe a trip out east would actually be a good idea.

            “That actually sounds like a great plan. Send me the dates, I’ll talk it over with my mom.” She could practically hear Lincoln smiling through the phone. She was also pretty sure she could hear Octavia shrieking in the background. It would do her some good to be around people who were actually living.

 

-

 

            The conversation had started with the best of intentions. Clarke didn’t want to leave her mother without actually asking permission even though she was an adult. Although letting it slip that it was also a good chance for her to see the school and help make her decision was probably where she went wrong.

            “What do you mean you might go there?” Abby had said, fire in her eyes for the first time in months.

            “Well, I applied there at the beginning of the summer. I’ve been accepted for the winter semester. I was going to tell you and dad but then” She let her voice drop. They didn’t talk about it, they hadn’t really talked about anything since he had died, but they definitely didn’t talk about it.

            “So all those medical programs you applied to, all those acceptance letters they were for nothing.”

            “That isn’t what I’m saying. Look Mom, I don’t know what I want to do but I do know that I don’t want to spend the rest of my life wandering around this house wondering if it ever gets better. If you just let me go out for a visit I can decide whether or not it’s actually for me.”

            “What if it is?” Her mom muttered quietly.

            “Would it really be the end of the world? I know that you and dad wanted me to become a doctor but that was never my dream, it was always yours. I’m good at art and I enjoy it and I think I want to study it.”

            “Then what? What comes next? You get your degree and then what do you do? Paint pictures for the rest of your life?”

            “I don’t know mom, but I’ll figure it out. Every detail doesn’t need to be planned right now. This is what I want to be doing. I asked you if I could go because I didn’t just want to disappear but I am an adult and I will do what I want to do.” She had practically spat out her last couple words and instantly wished she hadn’t. Her mother was looking at her with tears in her eyes and Clarke suddenly wanted to take back everything she said. “Sorry mom, its just I’m not a child anymore and I know that this isn’t what you wanted for me, but its what I need to do.”

            Abby didn’t say anything; she just nodded her head and reached for Clarke’s hand across the table. They sat like that for a few minutes before her mom spoke again.

            “Your father would be so proud of you.” She muttered, smiling at the memory of her husband. “He always knew you had talent.”

            It was settled then, Clarke was going to visit Lincoln for a week, and she had her mom’s blessing to actually attend art school, if that is what she decided to do. A couple weeks later when her mom had dropped her off at the airport Clarke suddenly realized that this was what it felt like to move forward. There was an air of excitement in her steps and the sense of despair that had seemed to be following her for the past four months had finally started to dissipate. Things were going to be okay, for the first time in a long time Clarke actually believed it.

 

-

 

Her flight felt longer than it actually was. She had tried to draw a little on the plane but the grump sitting next to her kept snoring and bumping her shoulder with his. She was so happy when they finally landed. She grabbed her carry on and started to head towards the baggage claim. Lincoln had texted her saying that he was going to pick her up so she didn’t need to grab a taxi, what she wasn’t expecting was the welcoming committee that was waiting for her by the carousel.

            Standing in the middle of the most random group of people ever was Lincoln who was beaming at her. In front of him stood a short girl with long brown hair and a mischievous glint in her eye. She was holding a sign that read “Clarke Griffin: Welcome Home” and was covered in an obscene amount of sparkles. Clarke instantly decided that the girl was probably Octavia and also they were probably going to get along. Flanking Octavia on either side were two guys. One was tall and lanky with short brown hair and what appeared to be a pair of ski goggles on his head. The other was shorter and rounder with a kind face and a cautious smile, he looked very nervous. Standing near the back of the group was a tall man with a scowl and the most beautiful freckles Clarke had every seen. Her eyes fell on him and she studied him for a moment. It was clear that he didn’t want to be seen as a part of the group but it was so obvious that he was. His dark eyes matched those of Octavia’s though her mischievous glint was replaced by a gleam of rebellion. Clarke decided that they were siblings. Before she could make any more assumptions about tall dark and grumpy she was nearly tackled by a blur of brown hair and glitter.

            Lincoln wasn’t far behind and he was laughing. “Jesus Octavia let the woman breathe.” He said reaching out to hug Clarke as soon as Octavia had released her. She forgot how much she missed Lincoln’s hugs. They were safe and study and warm. She reemerged to see Octavia beaming at her.

            “Sorry for the tackle hug, I realize that you don’t actually know me but Lincoln has told me so much and I was just so excited to meet you in person. Come on I’ll introduce you.” Clarke turned to look at Lincoln who just shrugged his shoulders and guided her over the mismatched group.

            “This is Jasper and Monty, I went to high school with them and they are practically harmless. They wanted to come because they weren’t sure you really existed.” Clarke raised her eyebrow and then reached out her hand to shake only to be pulled into two more quick hugs. “The big grump back there is my brother Bellamy. None of us have cars so he had to drive us here.”

            Clarke suddenly felt bad, she hadn’t thought about how Lincoln was going to pick her up from the airport. “You guys didn’t have to pick me up, I could have taken a –“

            “Nonsense, of course we were going to pick you up. Don’t mind Bellamy he is always a bit of an ass.” She whispered in her ear before pulling her towards the exit leaving the boys to find Clarke’s bag on the carousel. By the time they had reached the car Clarke had decided not only did she want to go to school here, she might actually belong.


	2. Chapter 2

The second they had reached Bellamy’s car which what appeared to be a very old Toyota, she realized a giant flaw in their plan to bring everyone to the airport. Bellamy’s car was definitely only big enough for five people. Unless math had changed from the west coast to the east coast there were six of them.

            “Uh, guys how exactly are we all going to fit?” Clarke asked timidly.

            “I’ll just sit on Lincoln’s lap.” Octavia said, as though it was the obvious answer.

            “No you will not.” Bellamy snapped, his eyes shooting fire between Octavia and Lincoln. “You and Clarke can share the front seat, I’m sure you’ll fit.” Octavia looked at her brother with her mouth open ready to pounce but apparently thought better of it. She shot Lincoln a sympathetic glance and he just shrugged his shoulders in return. Clarke hadn’t known them for very long but she was starting to suspect there was some unresolved protective issues that the Blake siblings needed to sort out.

            Three minutes later after throwing Clarke’s bag in the trunk and then trying to maneuver everyone into the car they were on the road. Octavia had ended up sitting half on the seat with her head leaning into the back seat and her legs tossed carelessly over Clarke’s. She tried not to think about what would happen if the police pulled them over but no one else in the car seemed to worry about it.

            Instead Octavia and Bellamy bickered over the radio dial until it had been turned off. Jasper and Monty just stared at Clarke like she was an exhibit in a museum and she really wished they would stop. Lincoln who was sitting behind the passenger seat had reached through the side and given her hand a quick squeeze. She returned the gesture. She was glad that she had come, even thought she was surrounded by strangers she felt safe. She was excited and terrified and not entirely sure what was happening around her.

Ten minutes into the drive the conversation turned swiftly towards Clarke. “So how was the flight?” “What’s the weather like in California.”? “Lincoln says you are an artist as well, what is your favorite medium.” “How did you and Lincoln meet?” The questions were flying at her and she didn’t even have time to think of an answer before Bellamy spoke up.

“Hey children, she just got off the plane and had to meet you lot. Cool it with the questions for a minute.” He hadn’t taken his eyes off the road but everyone in the car shut up. Another thing she learned about Bellamy, other than the fact that he was incredibly protective he was also very respected by his friends. She shot him a look as a way to say thank you, but his eyes stayed forward and his lips stuck in a permanent scowl. Instead she turned to the rest of the car and decided to give them some answers.

“My flight was fine Monty thank you for asking. Although the guy next to me could have done with a refresher on personal space. The weather in California is the same as it is everyday. Sunny, warm, and full of expectations.” She shot a smirk at Lincoln who responded in kind. “My favorite medium is paint, but it’s also the most time consuming. I enjoy doing quick pencil sketches as well.”

She took a breath and Monty surprisingly spoke up. “Lincoln showed us some of your work. It’s really good.” Clarke felt her cheeks heating up and she met Lincoln’s eyes. He was smiling cautiously at her.

“I hope you don’t mind.” He whispered. She shook her head as though to tell him she didn’t.

“Thank you.” She finally mustered, glancing quickly at Monty and Jasper who were beaming at her. “Lincoln and I met back in March. He was practically stalking me at the lake.”

She noticed Bellamy tense when she spoke. “I wasn’t stalking you, tell the story right.” Lincoln scolded from the back.

“Alright fine, I was drawing at the lake one day and Lincoln came over and told me that he liked my art. We just started hanging out after that. Its not that terribly exciting.” She shrugged and watched as Bellamy’s shoulders slowly drooped. “Anyway, what about all of you. Are you guys all students at Arcadia?”

“Well I am. I’m studying illustration and animation but little Monty here is studying electrical engineering down the road at Mount Weather.” Jasper wrapped his hands around his friend’s shoulders and shook. Monty’s face flushed a bright red and he stared a hole into the floor of the car.  “Full academic scholarship and everything.” Clarke smiled as Monty tried to avoid his friend’s praise.

“I’m undecided right now but I’m thinking of focusing on performance arts of some kind.” Octavia pitched in. It made perfect sense to Clarke. Octavia seemed like the type of person that could fit into any situation, mold to fit what she needed to be without ever losing an ounce of herself.

“What about you Bellamy?” Clarke asked, daring to glance at the driver once more. This time though his eyes flicked over to her for a brief moment. He actually looked surprised that she had asked at all.

“History, with a focus on ancient civilizations specifically Greece, Rome and Egypt.” He said, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“Bell wants to be a teacher and force young children to care about things that haven’t mattered in ages.”

“Hey, history matters. If we do not learn from our pasts…”

“We are doomed to repeat it.” A chorus of voices drowned the end of Bellamy’s sentence out. They had obviously heard him say it before.

“Well its true.” Bellamy huffed. “What about you Clarke what are you studying?” An eerie silence fell on the car and everyone but Bellamy turned to look at Clarke. Apparently Lincoln had told them about her situation and had informed them not to ask her about it. Every time recently when someone asked her about her plans she could feel the anxiety attack coming a mile away. She didn’t know what she was doing and she wished everyone would stop asking. This time however it felt different. There weren’t any expectations for what her answer should be. She could feel Lincoln gripping her hand but then realized she was going to be okay.

“I’m not studying anything right now. I decided to take a little break before I started college. If I do decide to come to school here I will probably studying fine arts and maybe a minor in art history.” She glanced at Bellamy again and she could have sworn she saw a smile. She gave Lincoln’s hand a little shake to let him know she was okay before dropping it all together After months of walking around her house in a daze of despair it felt nice to be around people who didn’t expect a single thing out of her. She could breathe here, even with Octavia’s elbow pushing into her lungs. She could be something here, with these strangers who accepted her and made her laugh, made her feel at home.

-

            They arrived at Lincoln’s dorm entirely too soon. After the conversation about majors and life plans the tone of the car took a shift towards the nostalgic. Monty and Jasper began a very vivid reenactment of one of their epic pranks. It seemed to be a story that they told a lot. There were sound effects and everything. Even Bellamy seemed to be enjoying himself. Not that Clarke had noticed; she definitely didn’t spend half the drive wondering why Bellamy Blake rarely smiled. Regardless of the freckled distraction she found herself laughing along as Jasper feigned a scream and Monty made some sort of explosion noise. It felt good to laugh.

            It had been a long time since Clarke had laughed like that. A long time since she had allowed herself to have fun. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to have fun; it was more that she didn’t want to have fun without her Dad with her. Suddenly that felt okay again. By the time that Bellamy had pulled up outside of Lincoln’s dorm Clarke had just barely caught her breath.

            Lincoln got out first and opened the passenger side door. Offering his hand first to Octavia who took it and gracefully slid off of Clarke’s lap. Clarke couldn’t help but notice the way Lincoln’s thumb ran over the back of her hand. The small smile Octavia flashed at him and the slight bit of pink that snuck into his cheeks. She smiled to herself and climbed out all on her own.

            “Your bag.” Bellamy grunted, dropping it on the ground at her feet and heading back towards the driver’s seat. Apparently any and all good times stopped as soon as the car did. Octavia scowled at him before turning to Clarke.

            “Hope you don’t mind but we are having a party tonight and you most certainly have to come since it is a party to celebrate you finally being here. Really it’s an excuse to drink, but also we want to get to know you more. You seem to be pretty great.” Clarke allowed a smile to find its way onto her face and Octavia apparently took that as a yes she was definitely coming to the party. Shrieking she pulled Clarke into another bone crushing hug and told her the party was at 7 o’clock sharp and she better not be late.

 

-

 

Lincoln’s room was exactly how she’d expected it to be. The white walls were covered with art. It was an eclectic collection to say the least. Some were originals from him, others from the great masters of each era, she definitely thought she spotted Starry Night buried beneath a Matisse, even though Lincoln swore up and down he would never hang Starry Night on his wall. There were even a few of hers on the wall as well. The drawing of the lake she had done the night they had met, a sketch she’d done of him and his mother cooking in their small kitchen, and a watercolor she had done for him before he left for school. She smiled as she reached out to touch it.

            Since her and Lincoln had become friends he kept pushing her in terms of her art. Telling her to try new mediums and styles. After her dad died she tended to stick to the dark end of the color spectrum all of her work got considerably drearier for a while. So when she decided to paint Lincoln a picture as a going away present she pulled out her watercolors. They had been a gift from her dad when she was seven years old and she hadn’t used them in years.

            At first she had intended to do a still life, recreating a picture she had of them. Instead she took his advice and tried something new, abstract. She closed her eyes and tried to picture the happiest things she could think of. It was a mess of colors and emotions and she loved it. When she looked at it reminded her of so many different things. Her father chasing her around the local park. Her mother singing her to sleep at night. Her acceptance letter to Arcadia. Lincoln and the friendship they had formed. The way the sunset burned the sky. She had cried when she had finished it, cried when she gave it to Lincoln, and cried when he drove away. It was safe to say she had spent too much of the past few months crying.

            “That’s probably my favorite thing up there.” Lincoln said, pulling her out of her thoughts. “I wanted to frame it but you can’t put holes in the walls here.” She turned to face him, trying to hide the memories on her face and apparently failing miserably because he was by her side in a moment. “I’m glad you are here.” He whispered, pulling her into a hug. It had been a very hug filled day, not that she minded.

            “Me too.” She whispered back, wiping the tears away and pulling her head back from his chest. “Alright, enough of the emotions Lincoln. I’ve got so many questions.”

            Lincoln laughed and sat on the bed. “Shoot.” Holding his arms open, ready for anything she was going to throw at him.

            “How long have you been in love with Octavia?” She started with the hardest one, and the look on his face was worth it. His wide grin twisted into a somber grimace.

            “It’s not like that.”

            “Why not, its obvious the two of you are crazy about each other.” Before Lincoln could answer Clarke figured it out. “Its her brother isn’t it.”

            Lincoln just nodded. “He’s really protective of her. So we decided it would be better for him to like me before we started dating.”

            “How’s that working out for you?” Clarke raised an eyebrow, already knowing the answer.

            “Miserably.” Lincoln groaned flopping backwards onto the bed. “The guy hates me Clarke. Well I’m pretty convinced that he hates everyone except for O, but he especially hates me. Like would like to curse me to the pits of hell for even speaking near him.”

            “I’m sure that’s not true. So he’s protective, a lot of brothers are. Or at least that is what I am told by people with brothers.” Lincoln covered his face with a pillow. “He’ll get over it, he has to. You are Lincoln, the best goddamn guy that I know. Plus you’ve got me here now. I’m an excellent wing woman.”

            “You are a terrible wing woman Clarke.” Lincoln propped himself up on his elbows, apparently done trying to suffocate himself with a pillow.

            “Alright that was one time, and also I was trying to get you a date. This time I’m just trying to convince another guy to like you. You know, as a guy. I’m going to hook you up with a bromance. Its totally normal and I can do it.”

            “You need to stop speaking immediately.” Lincoln said, his grin returning to his face. “Never offer to hook me up with a bromance ever again. Please.”

            “You need my help.”

            “Fine but only if you stop being weird.”

            “It will only work if I’m weird.” Clarke stuck her tongue out. Lincoln retaliated by throwing a pillow at her. “Hey, I am your guest. Don’t be rude.” She threw it back. She had really missed Lincoln.

 

-

           

            The spent the rest of the afternoon catching up. Well more Lincoln catching Clarke up on college life. Clarke could only tell Lincoln about waiting tables so many times. Her stories all ended the same. He told her about all of his classes and which ones he loved and which ones he hated. He told her about the new friends he had made, how at home he felt here.

            She listened, nodding her head and started to think about how different their lives were. Their lives had always been different. Clarke had been raised in privilege. A fact she was never ignorant to but also hated when it was brought up. Lincoln was raised by his mother and grandmother. His father had died when he was very young. They were complete and polar opposites but it was right here in this moment she realized how different they were. The biggest difference she noted was that he was actually living his life, making friends, falling in love, creating beautiful things and she was going through the motions. She had only ever been going through the motions.

She realized suddenly that she wanted this. For the first time in a long time she wanted something. She wanted to be at college with friends, away from her house haunted by memories. She wanted to be on a new coast where the leaves changed color and strangers picked you up at airports. She craved this life, more than anything in the world. She wanted to live, to make spontaneous decisions that may lead to regrets. She wanted to fall in love with the wrong people, but rights ones as well. She always wanted to be free of the plans that her mother had laid out for her but she was finally realizing exactly what that freedom could be.

            “Clarke?” Lincoln pushed her shoulder and she snapped back to reality. “Are you still with me, I thought you went catatonic for a second.”

            “I’m here, sorry. What were you saying?” She blinked up at Lincoln who was standing now holding out his hand to her.

            “I was saying that we should probably go soon if we want to make it to Octavia’s by seven. When that girl gives a specific time you show up at that time.” Clarke placed her hand in his and he pulled her to her feet. “We don’t have to go if you don’t want to.” He said quietly as she straightened her clothes. She met his eyes and he was searching her face, obviously looking for a sign for them to stay home.

            Instead she shook her head. “I made a promise I would be there, I don’t want to let the future Mrs. Lincoln Blake down.” Lincoln laughed and threw his arm around her shoulder as they walked out of his dorm together.

            “You know I think I like the sound of that. Lincoln Blake, it’s got a nice ring to it.” His laughter matched Clarke’s and they headed out into the night. It was a beautiful night to be alive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here is chapter two. Thank you for the kind words, it really does mean a lot.  
> I promise there is going to be some Bellamy/Clarke interaction soon. I just wanted to further establish the friendship between Clarke and Lincoln and I am really enjoying writing them.  
> I don't know how often I will update this I tend to work really strange hours but I'll try to write when inspiration hits.  
> Again all comments are very much appreciated and thank you for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> So this is a thing.  
> I for some reason really wanted to write something where Clarke and Lincoln were friends. I realize this is a lot of stuff I put in here and I promise it will not be this chock full of info next time. I just felt inspired.  
> Also the end is a little weird but I wanted to get her out there before the end of the chapter.  
> I hope you enjoy and please let me know what you thing.


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